Medusa couldn't suppress a smile when she noticed how the obviously bad taste of the tasted wine made her new companion grimace. But when he found a wine which seemed to match his taste she ordered the same because she didn't knew anything of wine and in her ludus they got only occasionally some wine to drink but always with water. So she ordered a cup of water as well since she didn't know what effect pure wine would have on her as she was not used to it at all.

Her companion seemed to be very frank and open, he had introduced himself to her telling her his background so it was only just to ask her about her origins. She felt a bit awkward telling a Roman citizen that she was a captured Germanic woman and was a slave fighting as a gladiatrix to entertain the Romans. She thought how she could tell this without offending him and said:

"Uuuhmm, as you could probably guess from my accent you know I'm not from Roma or Italia but from a place you call Germania Magna or Barbaricum. I come from a tribe called Chatti and when there was a revolt against the Romans who had built a settlement in our region they sent their soldiers and all of my family were captured. To make it short in the end I was sold by a lanista of an itinerant gladiator troupe to the lanista of the Ludus Dacicus. That's basically it. Not very thrilling. I'm not that of a glamorous hero I fear I have to admit. My real name is not Medusa, that's what I'm called in the arena. My Germanic name is Svanhild but I know for Roman tongues it's hard to pronounce, so it's all right if you call me Medusa."

Medusa took a sip of wine and then water and glanced over to the neighboring table. She noticed a group of three men, or actually two men and boy. One of the men had a soldierly behavior, the other of a higher classed citizend and the boy seemed to feel out of place like she did herself. Maybe that was what draw their attention to her. She said to her new friend:

"Look over to them guys, the boy seems to be the first time in a tavern, too. He seems to be out of place. What do you think?"

She took a large sip of water since she was very thirsty and to quench the thirst had been her main intention.

> "Alde Marii, I fear that I may have made our guest ill at ease. Perhaps if i ask you to speak, instead - Mehercule, if anyone has a story to tell,> it will be you!""Vae, I believe I have had more to do with our companion's discomfort than you," said Marius. "I now feel responsible for anything that happens to the lad. He can't help his looks, nonne?" He regarded the youth (a youth s/he was, no matter the gender) pensively, but with still just a tiny bit of mischief in his eyes. "No fear, either of you; I won't uncork any bottles if you don't. And, iuvens--have you a name?--if you need my help with other people who might make my mistake, you'll have it."> "As I recall, we last saw each other during a storm, in Gallia, in a vile but at that moment dry and welcome little inn, just outside of - Lutetia, was it> not? That town on that island in the middle of the river Sequana. Or am I getting my geography confused again? I swear, there is a bit of the divine> in our paths having crossed as often as they have!""Ita, Lutetia civitatem erat...though some of the locals want to call it after that dissipated Trojan prince, who thought himself qualified to judge beauty among the Gods. 'Paris', ha! May they avoid Ilium's perils.

"Funny thing about my storytelling...I can't seem to do it on purpose. Oh, things come up in conversation, and I'll always have an anecdote or two on almost any subject. But it only happens around people whom I'm comfortable with. To just stand up in front of a group of strangers who say 'Marius, tell us a story!'...why, I can't do it for some reason. Maybe it's because, deep down, I've convinced myself that no one but my friends would understand. And, with most of my friends being fellow-veterans, there's a lot among them that doesn't need to be explained...

"Aahhh, listen to me talking like some fine, educated fellow. I suppose that'll need some explaining. But! --I have been asked where I am from, and what I'm doing nowadays. Ask and ye shall receive (don't remember where I picked it up; it surely wasn't the Legions)!" He smiled again, pausing in case his friends wished to respond to anything he'd already said, but plainly looking forward to telling them how he'd ended up here, of all places, as an archivist, of all things.

OOC: Ok...Medusa and Paulus are now in the taverna, after Paulus left Marius and the others in the ampitheater. It looks like Medusa saw them in the tavern, but nothing else indicate they have left the ampitheatre. Now Formosus seems to have you in the tavern.

Claudius Iohannes looked to Marius to see if this giddy, grimy and less than fully shaven new arrival was to be received in comfort or with suspicion; but he wasn't sure how to read the sly smile that crossed Marius's face... So he stood, himself, and smiled, a bit warily, saying,

"My dear fellow! How nice of you to order more wine! Will you join us, then?

"What shall we have, then, my friends? I'm partial to the Falernian, but I know Marius enjoys a sweeter sort of brew. When the waiting girl returns, we'll see what's best.

"But what of you, stranger? It seems you're a regular here, so you and I share a predilection for this place of hustle and comfort. But how shall we address you? Enlighten us as to your name - for it is names that I will need, from you and all of my acquaintances here, if I am to enjoy this convivium as I wish to!

And then, as the serving girl returned, Iohannes addressed the rough-necked newcomer with perhaps a shade less wit, saying, "You must, my friend, take the trouble to introduce me to your friend, our waitress - yes, you, my dear! For I should love a chance for a chaste and private chat with you, if ever you're free and happily disposed to indulge a grayhead of my sort.

"For the beauty of women", Iohannes declared most oratorically, despite the less-than-distinguished venue, in what was left of his once-great voice, saying, "it is ever like a wine in its own right, and one divine!"

OOC: I promised Marius I would post tonight. And I did, only to lose it all when I hit submit and was taken to a screen to re-log in.I am so POd and have no heart to retype it all right now, so I will make another attempt tomorrow night.

[OOC] Eheu! I know that feeling WELL ENOUGH, Paule! I share your pain! (Nowadays, I try to remember to type it all up in wordpad or OpenOffice before I finally transfer it to the post - but often enough, fallible as I am, I just start a post and take my chances.)

[OOC: Several days late; there was a lot going on in the last few posts for Marius to respond to...but worth the wait?] >({|;-)

Marius had just taken a good, deep breath, the better to share his story, when he heard himself hailed strongly by someone else in the caupona. Another stranger, another face and voice to misguess? Or one of his few but insistent hangers-on, wanting to get to know him better by pretending they already did? This town was no place for a man with poor short-term memory. That was why Marius avoided people for the most part, passed through crowds quietly and without comment, and spent most of his time fussing over his pets, his books, and his property, in roughly those proportions.>> 'Well, by Bellona and by Jupiter Optimus ! If that isn't my old mate the Pilgrim ! What are you doing here, Marius ? I thought you were still serving>> in Gaul, like the last time I saw you.'> Claudius Iohannes looked to Marius to see if this giddy, grimy and less than fully shaven new arrival was to be received in comfort or with suspicion;> but he wasn't sure how to read the sly smile that crossed Marius's face...Marius blinked hard, twice, before he placed the voice and the face. But how could he forget that face; how could anyone? "Formosus, you damned timekeeper!" he exclaimed heartily. "Always counting the days, in half a dozen different ways, until you could retire! And bitching about the calendar if it gave you more time left on your hitch! Ahh, those Divine Caesars--those Greeks--those priests and augurs--the whole bloody lot of them! Graverobbers all, keeping the Underworld away from a perfectly good corpse!" And he laughed with abandon this time, knowing full well that his old barracks-mate was probably the only man in Rome thick-skinned enough to withstand the jest.>> 'And who's this you're with ? That distinguished looking gentleman ? That's not the company you usually hang out with, is it Marius ?""Actually it is, now that I have my druthers. I retired from the Cavalry years ago. I run with the literate set nowadays; I've known Iohannes Philosophus here for quite some time. We, too, have shared adventures in Gaul, though of a tamer sort; and he is one of the few civilians I would trust to direct me in anything.">> "And that fine looking boy, is he your son ? Or is he yours, sir ? He must be a favourite with the ladies, I bet ! With his good looks !'"Hmm, we were just getting acquainted with the lad. He's actually rather sensitive about his looks; I wouldn't comment on them any more than you already have.">> 'But I am interrupting a serious conversation here.""Na, you've actually saved me from having to explain myself twice." Marius gave Formosus a look that clearly bespoke his relief.>> "Why don't you introduce me to your friends, Marius ? And then I promise I shall shut up and listen for at least ten minutes...""I'll hold you to that...sort of. Surely you know that you can't get more accurate than about twenty minutes with a portable sundial? Bene, I certainly can't, and wouldn't care to. I don't tend to notice the difference between ten minutes and twenty--ask my office! And what is with this new-fangled rage for measuring the day in such ridiculous snippets? There's a reason they call 'em 'minutes'; they're too small to be worth consideration. Ahh, the young are ever in a hurry. But we don't have that problem anymore, now, do we?" The Wanderer winked.

"Back to your request. This is Valerius Claudius Iohannes, of whom I've just spoken a little. The boy is...actually, we haven't gotten that far in the conversation; my perverse shyness, don't you know." The veteran-turned-scribe sounded anything but shy; chipper, playful even: "Maybe you can winkle it out of him?"

"And this ruin of a good soldier is Spurius Sempronius Formosus. I swear his drunken mother named him, or maybe his drunken wife--have you got one yet, amice? --I haven't; I do learn from my friends' mistakes!"> "...I know Marius enjoys a sweeter sort of brew...""Actually, I come to a caupona to eat, not to drink. I do like warm honey-mead in the wintertime, apricot tea otherwise. I like ribs, briskets, and pulled-pork turnovers better than either. I believe I'll have a platter--Heia! Puella! Have you got a menu we could share...?"> [Iohannes, ad servam:] "... I should love a chance for a chaste and private chat with you, if ever you're free and happily disposed to indulge> a grayhead of my sort.""My good lady," Marius addressed the waitress, "when Iohannes says 'chaste', you may believe it. He is one of the most thoroughly decent men I know. He will explain things like 'Stoicism and its relation to the Roman work-ethic' in terms even a dockworker could understand. I dare say the average Citizen is better off in mind and spirit most anywhere Iohannes travels, if he gets a chance to talk to him. Per Deos Immortales, he might even be able to help this jaded old town."

He returned his attention to his friends, including Formosus in his gaze. "And I suppose you'll be wanting to know how I ended up in 'this jaded old town'? --As some of you may recall, it has never been a friendly place for the likes of me..."

First, there was the fire. At first only licking at the walls and roofs of the village huts, but soon turning into infernos as the beast fed hungrily. Paulus felt the hot gusts which would keep him back from getting any closer. He heard screams, close, but echoing. Bodies of simple peasant farmers and hunters lay on the ground, some with middle aged women weeping over them, crying curses in a tongue unknown to him. But the grief and rage was instantly translatable.

Then he saw running out of the smoke two young girls. One had auburn hair, the other blonde. They were unaware of Paulus as they fled past him, running away from the flames toward the protection of the trees. But they did not make it. Two Roman soldiers intercepted them, each grabbing one of the girls., separating them. "Svanhild!", shrieked the blond girl. The auburn haired girl screamed something that Paulus could not make out. {A name perhaps?} She struggled to free herself, like a wild animal. She even bit the arm of the solider who carried her. But it was in vain. They were caught, and behind them the Fire laughed and belched heat and stench of burning flesh, heat and smell so intense the soldiers drew back.Paulus saw another figure, an older woman, running screaming after the soldier with the auburn haired girl. But another soldier blocked the way and struck the woman down to the ground. The girl cried pitifully, and was gone.

Paulus didn't want to see anymore, and so he turned away. Now he was no longer in Germania. But even so, when he looked he saw it again. The laughing, devouring Fire. But this time, he moved towards it, slowly at first, and then running. It was night now, but it may as well have been daylight in the street, so great was the Fire. Like before, he saw people running. But this time, one of them saw him too. Paulus had nearly reached the flames when he felt pushed back by the strong arm of a solider. "No Paulus!" the soldier yelled at him, "You can't do anything. Get back!""I've got to get Arsinoe!" Paulus yelled back."She's dead, Paulus!""No, she isn't! Just let me go!"The solider blocked his way, holding him back. "Paulus, believe me my friend, there is nothing you can do. Now get back.":Paulus pushed the soldier aside with a strength he never had before. But the soldier grabbed Paulus arm and turned him to face him. "Damn it Paulus", he said, as he let loose with his right fist into Paulus' face. Paulus fell to the ground, spitting blood from his mouth, completely dazed. Two other solider came up from who knows where and grabbed Paulus' arms. The soldier who struck him knelt to the ground and took Paulus by the shoulders. "I'm sorry my friend", he said gently, "but you cannot do anything for her. I saw her at the window. Believe me, my poor friend, she's dead." Paulus closed his eyes, and began choking back sobs. The soldier rose and gave orders to his two companions. "Get him back to the insula. His landlady Martina will know what to do with him."

The chattering of the patrons of the caupona brought Paulus back to the present. He stared deep into his cup, still staring at the swirling liquid. He raised his eyes again and looked at Medusa. They had some things in common. Both suffered loss. Both were in Rome without wishing to be. And both had met the Fire. Paulus felt a longing to somehow do a kindness for Svanhild, to protect her somehow. And he chuckled at the thought. Svanhild, or Medusa, was certainly more than capable of protecting herself now. In fact, if trouble started, she would probably end up defending Paulus, who would have been of little account in a fight! Nor was it a lovers urge. Paulus heart burned in the block fire in Alexandria that killed Arsinoe. He had no thought or wish for a lovers companionship.But Arsinoe was gone, and Svanhild was here. Wouldn't there be some way he could benefit her as he failed to do with Arsinoe?

"I wonder", Paulus spoke, "if our meeting today is somehow fortuitious. Purposeful. Maybe the gods are saving us for something." He felt silly as soon as the words left his mouth. Fool Paulus, he thought to himself. What good can you do? The ludus is the only life Svanhild knows. If you somehow contrived to free her {which you could not afford anyway} what on earth would she be free to do? How many opportunites are there out there for ex-female gladiators? And if you helped her escape from her prison, what would you be saving her for? A life on the run? Avoiding the slave catchers? Sure you could house her in your Insula. She would have a new prison to replace her old one! Be sensible.

Paulus quickly mulled these thoughts over in his mind. He had no idea what purpise their meeting might have. Or were there to be others involved as well? He decided on one thing however. If Medusa ever needed a refuge, then come hades or furies or soliders, he would give her a safe place at his insula. Something his is chest warmed, and told him that Arsinoe would approve.

Medusa was drinking when she pointed discretely at some other who were sitting at another table. "Look over to them guys, the boy seems to be the first time in a tavern, too. He seems to be out of place. What do you think?"

Paulus turned, and was surprised to recognize two of them. One was the lad he shared his loaf with. The other was the older man who had the wine spilt on his tunic in the ampitheater! Paulus did not recognize the other two, if they had had been there or not. "Now what was it you just thought to ourself", he whispered under his breath. "Were there others to be involved as well?" His fortuitious meeting with Medusa was first, and now by coincidence, another chance encounter with two people he had met. Well, nearly met anyway. Were the gods up to something?

Paulus summoned the servant girl. When she arrived he said to her, "Don't look now, be discrete. But at that other table, with the man with the wine stain on his tunic...you know the one?""Yes sir""Well, I want you to do something for me.""And what would that be sir?"Paulus suppressed a chuckle. "Take some food over to them, and say to him, 'Have a snack to go with your wine!', and then then rub the food onto his tunic with the wine stain!"Medusa nearly spit her water out, and the servant girl gasped! "I can't do a thing like that!""Sure you can!" Paulus encouraged."They'll kill me. My boss will kill me! He'll kill me and fire me, in that order! I can't!"Paulus took her hand. "Look, don't worry. Just do as I ask. If he or they get angry, point to me and tell them it was I that put you up to it and wish to treat them to a drink. I promise, I will take full responsibility, smooth things over with your boss, and even buy that fellow a new tunic if necessary!"The poor servant girl wimpered and hesitated. Paulus produced a coin and put it in her hand. "Are we agreed?" he asked.The girl looked at him, then looked at the coin. She nodded, and went to the counter to get a plate of food.Paulus actually felt nervous, exhileratingly nervous. Leaning over the table to Medusa, she whispered, "Let's have some fun!"

Medusa was quite surprised at her companion when he asked the servant girl to do this silly task of rubbing the snacks he ordered onto this man's tunic. Before he had come across to this idea he had looked very absent minded staring into his cup after she had told him her story, as if this story rang a string in his heart somehow. Was he a lunatic...?

Anyhow she had pointed out the group on the other table to him and if he knew the man with the stained tunic or not somehow he got this crazy idea after her mentioning that party at that table nearby. When she saw the servant girl coming from the kitchen with a plate with some snacks on it, Medusa rose from her seat, snatched the plate from the girl and twinkled at her With swift moves she approached the table of the now four men and when she stepped at the table she pretended to stumble and and some of the snacks landed on the man's tunic.

Medusa put the plate with the remaining but now disarranged snacks on the table and took a swift step back saying:

"Excuse me, dominus, for my clumsiness. But the gentleman over there had ordered these snacks for you guys here to have them with your wine."

Her senses were sharpened and she expected some kind of an attack from at least one of the men...

Involved in listening to the others trying to chat over the general hubbub, Claudius Iohannes did not note the approach of Medusa until she was near. His regard for the feminine prompting him, he began an admiring look at this sturdy, attractive woman who had appeared before him from nowhere.

But in that very moment the tray that she had been carrying erupted: a cascade of sausages, breads, mushrooms, snails, garum and black pudding leapt out at him, greasy and sticky and fulsome, all over him, his chest, his tunic-front, all over his arms.

"Qui- Qui- Quid!?" he stammered; "QUID IN TENEBRIS DITIS IPSIUS?!?!" At the bookish old man's roar, the entire caupona grew still, its endless noise ebbing for one long moment, stifled. And then, it flooded back, louder than before, renewed with raucus, riotous laughter and lewd, abrasive cat-calls.

Medusa put the plate with the remaining but now disarranged snacks on the table and took a swift step back saying: "Excuse me, dominus, for my clumsiness. But the gentleman over there had ordered these snacks for you guys here to have them with your wine."

"With our - !" Iohannes croaked, "With our - !"

The squealing and barking from the rest of the patrons filled the room; strangers pressed in from the Forum, attracted by the unusual merriment.

But now a wry smile shaped Iohannes's lips. "Heh-heh-heh," he chuckled; "With ... with my ...

"WINE!" he burst forth. Iohannes was feeling a bit crazed - not the proper role for a pedagogue or a student of philosophy, he mused, and began to laugh again. He looked at the young woman who had plied the joke, Medusa, who stood half-expecting him to start raving and raging, but he only laughed. Now the servitrix had come over, and she stared up uncomprehending of his laughter while pawing and wiping at the mess on the tunic, managing only to smear it further. "Wait," Iohannes said, out of breath, to the girl mopping the myre he now had for a tunic. "Wait - you don't understand - you don't understand - snacks - with my wine! Snacks," he said, prompting her, then placing both hands on his chest, "WITH my wine!" And he took to laughing again.

But looking beyond the beautiful and athletic Medusa, Iohannes noticed the author of the joke at his table - why, if it wasn't that same fellow who had tossed the brick - er, the loaf of bread - to the boy - er, girl - back in the colosseum!

Iohannes restrained his laughter. "An excellent - if messy - jest, my friend! At least," he continued, "I hope it was a jest; and further, that it was one done in good spirits -" Iohannes was not quite sure, but kept his eyes on the two of them. He drew himself up with what should have been dignity - but simply couldn't be - saying, "So, is it possible to ask you two to EXPLAIN yourselves to us? Whence this comedy?

"I wouldn't mind a good brawl," said Marius with a quiet and dangerous intensity. "What say you, Formose? In the main, I do not allow people to soil my friends. On the other hand, if Magister Iohannes isn't bothered by it, then I don't suppose I should harbor any resentments on his behalf. If it isn't a problem to him, then it isn't a problem. I've saved myself many a day on the praetor's bench by remembering that at crucial moments...

"Speak, mi Valeri. I am gentle when stroked, fierce when provoked. Shall I be Wolf or Iron today? Only say the word."

When Paulus beheld Medusa spilling the food, he took a moment to bury his face in his hand. "Oh, bloody hell"But within a moment, he had sized up the tactical situation thusly:

Behind Paulus was a wall. Between him and the exit was a table with the three men and a boy/girl? Paulus had to give Medusa a chance to get out of this, for if she were involved in a public disturbance, what punishment might she get from her magister? However, her departure would leave three of them, and only one Paulus. Now the older one who had the wine and food spilled on him looked as though he had pretty much had enough, and was trying to take the joke in stride. The most military looking of the two had not made a move as of yet. The angrier, rougher looking one had fallen to the floor lunging at Medusa.

The options were clear. Attack or parley.

Paulus got up and grabbed two cups of wine from another table. "Hey!", complained the annoyed patrons. "It's for a good cause!", Paulus said by way of apology. He ran over to the table and tried to look furious at Medusa.

"You clumsy slave! How could you do this? When we get home, you are really going to get it!"

Then, addressing himself to the group, he apologised profusely. "you cannot know how mortified I am gentlemen, at the outrageous behavior of my stupid slave girl. She will feel my whip tonight, I assure you! In the meantime, share these drinks with me and accept my apology for this disturbance."

When it looked as though his words might have some effect, the voice of the serving girl Claudia popped up from behind him. "But sir, it wan't an accident! You wanted me to spill the food, remember?"

Paulus rolled his eyes. "Oh, thank you precious!", he said oozing sarcasm. Then, "Heck, we all have to die sometime! HAVE A DRINK GUYS!", he said as he threw the wine into the faces of the soldierly looking one, and the rougher one. With that, Paulus knew he had crossed his Rubicon. "Run Medusa! Get out of it! Don't worry for me! Flee!" he cried as he grabbed onto one of the two {he was not sure which}.

The young feminine-looking lad, scared by this turn of events, turned and fled out of the caupona. Perhaps he would return when it was over?

Claudius Iohannes was relieved - Marius seemed willing to restrain those intense martial tendencies of his - at least for the moment. But still, these prankish strangers needed to fess up about the reason for their strange ploy; if they did, then it was more than possible that everyone might leave here without wounds, or fines, or the Praetor's bench, or any other nasty results....

But it was not to be, for Marius's doughty old Eburonian acquaintance was feeling the Mars in him, and he had words for the pranksters:

'So you think you are funny, girl ? You think that's funny, hè ?'

Not content with that, he rushed Medusa. In the blink of an eye, the girl had flexed, turned, and tripped the Eburone up, sending him on his way flying across the rough, dirty floor. Her strength was remarkable! And where had he seen such a martial move before?

"Amici! Cives!" Iohannes cried, his relief at Marius's restraint disintegrating - just as the promising luncheon had. And then the other, the man with the loaf, the mysterious stranger appeared, apologizing -

"You cannot know how mortified I am, gentlemen, at the outrageous behavior of my stupid slave girl. She will feel my whip tonight."

"Ah," thought Iohannes; "my thanks to Iuppiter! Here we have a man of good sense!" But then the attractive serving woman piped up, saying,

"But sir, it wan't an accident! You wanted me to spill the food, remember?"

And the other:

"Heck, we all have to die sometime! HAVE A DRINK, GUYS!"

The man's aim was for Marius and the Eburone, but enough splashed into his eyes that, blinded by the Boon of Bacchus, he reeled back, his eyes stinging. He heard pandaemonium breaking out all about him, but he couldn't see a bloody thing. If ever, Iohannes thought inanely, if ever there was an exemplum of a thing that an individual might not control, AND of assenting to foolishness, THIS is it. Rubbing the wine from his eyes, he cried out: "Mehercule! Decorum, sanity - all lost!

"And who," he said, blinking, "who, in the name of the Gods Immortal, WAS that fellow?!?"

Medusa had stepped back a little but was still watching the three men, one on the floor, two at the table and her companion who had spilled the wine into the men's faces. She had thought it was just a silly prank to spill the food but she felt it was getting too serious for her senses after her companion had spilled the wine. She felt uneasy of the crowded tavern, she was used to the huge arena when fighting, and when she tried to retreat, she bumped into another guest who had come closer to look what all this hubbub was about. She saw that there was no way out so she tried to remain as far away as possible and stood there ready to fight every moment if someone was trying to attack her.

Paulus had originally intended nothing more than a prank of the man with the stained tunic, as a way of making his aquaintance and that of his companions, and to try to ascertain whether the same guiding hand that brought him and Medusa together might also be at work in their coincidental meeting in the caupona.

But, Medusa had unknowlingly thwarted that by dumping the food herself, and Paulus, fearful that she might face some kind of punishment in the ludus for creating a public disturbance, had escalated the incident in the hopes that with the three men would direct their hostility towards him, and Medusa could escape and be free of trouble.

But nooooooo.....With the entrance bloacked, Medusa wasn't moving. She was assuming a defensive combative stance, but not making her getaway. Paulus meanwhile had thrown two cups of wine into the faces of the soldierly one {he thought he heard someone call him 'Marius'} and the one who had lunged and fallen. But if Medusa did not escape, Paulus would risk getting pummeled in vain.

It was at that moment he had a brilliant idea. Paulus feigned panic and grabbed Marius and yelled with mock terror, "For the love of all the Gods, don't make her angry!" The hubbub in the place died down, and Paulus jumped on top of the table."Gentlemen, can you not see that I, by throwing this wine into your face, have saved your lives? I did it for YOU! For if you make Medusa Gladiatrix angry {the same Medusa Gladiatrix you may have just seen emerge victorius in the arena} then ohhhh...what may come if it??? All I know that if you provoke her, her eyes were flare, and if that happens, all I can do is avert my eyes, for I will be powerless to defend you, and I could not bear to watch as you meet your certain and terrible end!"

Paulus hopped down off the table, and went to the man who had lunged at Medusa and had fallen. "You sir! Please heed my advice and look happy and calm. For when I see you, I think "Ah, a pleasant chap out for a drink." But when the Medusa Gladiatrix, the Lethal One sees you, she thinks, "Ahh. Dinner!"

Paulus then ran up top the older bookish man with the wine stain. "And you my good man! Why, you don't know how fortunate you are! It is true that Medusa dumped food on you, but that is because....uh...that is because she likes you! You see, the fearsome lethal one only plays pranks on those she likes. And you...well, you must be a very calm, happy, amiable and easy going man!"

Paulus backed away from the table quickly. "Now everyone, I advise you all just go back to doing what you were doing before, and enjoy yourself. I will calm the Lethal Ones smoldering fury, and safetly lead her out of here so you are not harmed. You don't have to thank me...it is my duty to make sure you are all safe!"

Then, Paulus backed up to he was standing next to Medusa. "Let's get the hell out of here!" he whispered.

> Something had gone terribly wrong. Indeed. For Marius, his muscles already tensed for a spectacular arcing leap, its trajectory and probable deflection points already calculated, could not have been kept from the male buffoon's throat by anything short of cancellation of the laws of physics. He'd had every intention of sailing into the interloper, hobnails first. And then the man went and grabbed him just as he launched! It was too late to cancel the move; he'd already committed his weight to his leading foot... His momentum and the other man's resistance had their respective effects. The retired centurion being quite the fitter of the pair, momentum won...but not spectacularly. Marius hauled the buffoon up firmly by the shoulders and took a step backwards, breaking the other man's grip and turning his intended leap onto the mensa into a tabletop body-slam. Whatever the other man was trying to say got lost in the hubbub--and in Marius' deafening roar, the first sound he'd made since engaging.

"Insert heroic soliloquy here," he rasped, teeth bared in a manner befitting 'the Lupine One'. "Me, I'll save the chatter until after I've surfaced a road with you." The buffoon pled his case, to no avail; for any of Marius' companions could see that the warrior's eyes were flashing like a signal-fire on the Wall, and next to him the Medusa held no terrors at all...

OO: I hope that no one minds my interrupting, but good RP is a rare thing these days. Apologies for my appalling Latin!

IC: Aulus Flavius hated the games. He hated the idea of pressing himself in with the rest of the screaming Roman mob in order to watch as groups of slaves and freaks hacked at each other until they were either on the ground or dead. Were it not for the relative seclusion of the Senatorial seats, he would not have even bothered coming. But as the games finally wound down after a heavy day of blood and sand, Aulus couldn’t help but sigh with relief when he was ushered out into the streets. His litter was waiting there to carry him back to his home, with four large blacks from Africa leaping to their feet at his appearance.

“Home”, it was all that he needed to say. He hated these days, and would rather have remained away, but no patrician in Rome at the moment could afford not to be seen at the games. Not with things the way that they were. As the litter was lifted and began to move through the crowd, Aulus gently drew aside the curtains and cast searching eyes over the people. It was pointless, he knew. The whole point of being followed was that one did not know if they were being followed.

The litter slowly pulled away from the mass of people and began to peel through the streets towards the Caelian. It was the shouting and screaming that eventually pulled Aulus out of his dark reverie. The curtains were snapped aside and Aulus looked out at a tavern that they were passing.

“Blood and fire” he swore. “Stop!” he ordered. A brawl so soon after the games was never a good sign. Better to put this down before the Vigils turn up.

The litter came to a halt and was quickly put down, but Aulus was already out and reaching into the folds of his toga. His slender hands pulled out a led tablet the size of his palm, with an Imperial eagle stamped on the front. Under it was printed:

COHORTES URBANAE: X COHORS

Without waiting for orders the four litter slaves began to shove people out of the way for their master. More then one angry glance was starting to come his way, so Aulus filled his lungs and held his badge up.

“Tribune of the Urban Cohorts! Make way!”

People began to melt away with surprising speed at the sudden appearance of an Urban Tribune. Aulus and his slaves finally burst into the tavern and the scene was strikingly familiar to that on the arena floor he had just left behind. Broken chairs and tables were scattered across the floor, and plebs who had previously been shouting their encouragement were quickly backing away at the sudden appearance of a government official.

“In the name of the Urban Prefect I demand that-”

Aulus was caught short at the sight of one of the men. The weather beaten face and the wolf cloak, and that damned wolfs head hanging from his neck.

“Aldus Marius! What, by Dis, are you doing here?” Aulus looked around. “Who are these people?”

Paulus position face down on the floor was not comfortable, but it did give him a very good view of Medusa's toes. "this is not good" he groaned to himself as he slowly began to get up, making sure nothing was broken.

Two against one, eh? Well, there may not be a victory in this, but a Pyrric victory might be arranged for them. The one rule in warfare is---never play fair. Olympic contests may have rules, but war was about doing the best with what you had, as suddeny and as surprisingly a fashion as possible. And Paulus spent most of his adult life in Alexandria, a city known for it's tumults.

The stronger of the two was the one called Marius, but the more reckless of the two was the other one.

Paulus got up to his feet, rubbing his side, looking groggy. As he faced Medusa he silently mouthed the words, "Any advice?"Then he turned around , trying to keep his balance. The two were facing him, standing next to each other, close together. But what Paulus noticed was the litter coming to a stop in the street outside. "Uh oh..." he said when he saw it. And as fortune would have it, that was an opportunity, for at that worried 'Uh oh', everyone in the place, including his attackers, turned to see what was outside.

That was when Paulus quickly grabbed a small wobbly chair and brought it crashing down on the one called Marius. The decrepit chair broke, sending pieces across the floor. But he did not waste the time to see what damage this might have caused. Dropping the chair leg, he kicked with his right leg, striking Formosus behind his right knee, causing him to lose his balance and drop to the floor.

What happened next defied all reason. The spectators began to get involved. Some of them clamoured that it was an unfair match, two against one. Others yelled that the one had started it all. And they began to shove and push until a full fledged brawl erupted.

Paulus immediately felt a small kick in his leg. He turned to see the girl Claudia, flailing away with her tiny hands and feet. Paulus he grabbed her arms but she would not give up. And Paulus began to laugh. The whole scene was so absurd as to be comical. He backed up, intending to push the girl away as gently as he could, but fell into the lap of the man who he had played the prank on. He regained his composure, and turned to greet him. "Hello again Dad! I'm sorry about your tunic. I'll pay you for it!"He would have gotten up of his lap, but before he could, an irate couple {the same couple whose wine he had grabbed off their table} appeared. They were making a hasty exit, but paused long enough to say, "Next time, take your own d--- wine!"And with that, they poured a full cup over Paulus' head, drenching him. Then they fled. Paulus tasted it as it dripped down his mouth, and scrunched up his face. "Next time, at least make it something decent! I wouldn't use Lora to clean out a horses bowels!" He got off "Dad" and dried off his face with his cloak. "You know dad", Paulus s said "since you already had your wine, and your dinner, I don't imagine you would be in the mood for dessert now, would you?"

At that moment, an official looking like a tribune strode into the room.